


Interstellar Flare

by Saerzion



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Coming of Age, F/F, Fallout Kink Meme, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saerzion/pseuds/Saerzion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nova's perplexity over the awkward Lone Wanderer only grows each time the girl walks into Moriarty's Saloon. But as time goes by in a clustered sequence, their burgeoning companionship runs much deeper than the skin they wear. Two people so different, so varied, yet magnetized. They're worlds apart, but linked in the stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

** Supernova **

Nova had no idea what to make of the fresh-faced Vaultie who dropped 120 caps into her hand and peered up at her expectantly. A combination of dismay and bafflement winded through her, as she hadn’t anticipated that the kid would actually take her up on her standard proposition of her services. The Megaton prostitute had had her share of eccentric clients over the past few years, but if she had to pick one who stood out the most, this girl would be it.

Short, chubby, and with long waves of mousy brown hair and spectacles large enough to cover almost half her face, Roz sported an appearance as homely as her name. Nova could put on an illusion of interest and fake desire for even the most repulsive of men who took her to bed, but for this girl, who looked like a clueless little sister in need of feminine guidance and general protection from the Wasteland, she didn’t even know where to begin.

However, when Roz turned and started climbing the staircase to the appointed room, Nova had no choice but to fulfill her obligations.

Exchanging a glance with Gob across the bar counter, she hid a grimace and followed the girl up the stairs, feeling Moriarty’s laughing eyes on her back. Once they entered the small, grimy space, Nova shut the door behind them and dawdled there while Roz took a seat on the worn bed. The girl watched her, expression neutral, as Nova tried to muster the willpower to go through with this.

“Um, sit with me?” Roz asked after a few idle seconds. She patted the mattress next to her and adjusted her glasses when they slipped down her button nose.

In stiff movements, Nova meandered to the bed and sat down almost gingerly, her eyes never leaving Roz’s gray ones. A long, awkward silence stretched between them. Nova found herself at a complete loss as to how to proceed, and as the pressure increased, she began to sweat.

_C’mon, Nova, you’re a professional. You don’t back down from a challenge. You can seduce anyone and anything. Your reputation depends on this._

But no matter how hard she tried, she found it almost impossible to dredge up even an ounce of lust, false or otherwise.

“Look, honey,” she declared, giving up, “I’m not sure how to tell you this, but—”

“I’ve got a half hour of your time, right?” Roz inquired, still looking and sounding impartial. 

“Yeah, though I’m probably gonna have to give you a refund because I can’t… with…” Nova stopped and sighed, running a hand through her ginger hair. “Colin is going to kick my ass for this.”

“No need. I just want to have a conversation.”

“That’s… not usually how this works. You know that, don’t you?”

Roz inclined her head and went on, “Have you lived in Megaton long?”

Nova decided to go with it. _Hey, it’s her money she’s choosing to throw away for a chat, so whatever._ “I stayed for a few days, got into some debt trouble, and now it’s five years later. Why? You thinking of sticking around? Don’t do it. This place will suck the soul right outta you.”

Roz studied her, the ambient light glinting off her thick lenses. “Is Moriarty trapping you here?”

“Hm, I wouldn’t say that. Technically, I’m working for him to pay off my debt. It’s just that tips around here are so low, and Colin finds ways to rack up my outstanding balance.” Nova stretched and shrugged. “Someday, I’ll pay it all off. Besides, for someone like me, better to be a whore in here than a walking target out there. Women have met worse fates than this.”

Another round of silence filled the room as Roz stared at her, unblinking. Nova shifted impatiently after a while, wondering if the girl wasn’t all there in the head. No trace of emotion, no discernible social mannerisms. Just… blankness, dullness. And here she thought Moira Brown held the sole title of local weirdo around these parts.

Finally, Roz said, “But you’re unhappy.”

Nova let out a long-suffering sigh, jaded by both the topic and the company. “Well, who _would_ be happy working minimum wage for an overbearing asshole—don’t tell him I said that—in this place? I mean, I’m not complaining too much, and it is what it is, but if I had to do it over, I would’ve done it different.”

“What would you have done differently?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions, kid.”

“I paid for the time.”

Nova’s eyes went heavenward. _All right, then._ “I don’t know, maybe skip town altogether? Be more responsible with my money? Just something that wouldn’t have landed me here, you know?”

Roz seemed to ponder that, scratching at her pudgy belly through her Vault jumpsuit as she did. “If you weren’t stuck here, what would you be doing?”

_Does she want me to just give her my autobiography or something? Why’s she so curious about me?_ Nova mused to herself before saying aloud, “Running a shop, I guess.”

“Why?”

Nova never thought of herself as short-tempered, but this girl sure put that to the test. “I like interacting with customers, and I’m obviously good at selling. Product or service, I can sell it, no problem. Is there a reason you’re asking me all these things?”

Roz shook her head. “Everyone forgets that people are more than their jobs. We’re all human. We should treat each other as such.” 

Nova drew her eyebrows together in confusion, not quite catching the meaning at first. And then, as she peered long and hard at Roz, it clicked. There, in those gray eyes, a certain quality shone through the dim lighting.

Kindness.

“Well, that’s real sweet of you, hon,” Nova told her, warming a bit to her unconventional manner. “But I already know what I’m dealing with in this profession. Besides, human or not, this is how society is in the Wasteland. I’m not sitting around waiting for someone to save me.”

Roz frowned a little at that. “Have you thought about being your own hero and saving yourself?”

Nova scoffed, wanting to school the naïveté out of the poor, sheltered Vault girl. “If everyone was able to be their own hero, we wouldn’t have sunk this low as a civilization.”

Roz paused, appeared to consider it. Intelligence brewed there—muted, but evident. She pushed her glasses up again and gave Nova an unfathomable look. “Do you want to be saved?”

A few stilted beats passed between them.

Nova turned her face away, unwilling to dig up a notion she had already buried. “Can we… talk about something else?”

Roz nodded and switched subjects without even floundering. “Your name. ‘Nova.’ Is it your birth name or one you were given later?”

A rueful smile formed on Nova’s lips. “That’s gonna cost you extra, kid.”

Roz gazed at her for a moment longer before abruptly hopping off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

The girl waved and strode to the exit. “I’ll be back when I have more caps.”

x-x-x-x-x

A few weeks passed before Roz returned.

Nova had almost forgotten about her, but as soon as the blue and yellow Vault jumpsuit darkened the entrance of Moriarty’s Saloon, she recognized the girl’s figure and glasses. Roz appeared dustier now from traversing the Wasteland, her attire starting to grow tattered at the edges. Nova noticed how she carried no visible weapons, and she wondered at the lack of armor as well.

“Oh, it’s you again, fat girl,” Moriarty drawled, sauntering into the bar from the backroom. “Any luck finding dear old Dad?”

Roz seemed unfazed by the jab about her weight and maintained her neutral countenance as she approached the bar counter. “No. Still looking.”

Nova had heard something about Roz searching for her father, but judging by the girl’s lackadaisical attitude on it, the matter didn’t seem all that critical. She watched as Roz exchanged a friendly greeting with Gob while pulling out a few full bottles of alcohol from her pack. He slid a number of caps her way and then gathered the liquor in his arms to take them to storage. Roz dumped out a coin purse next to the caps and counted the total currency before shifting her bespectacled gaze toward Nova.

“I have 120 caps. Could I get a room with company again?” she inquired.

Nova detected Moriarty’s leer from the corner of her eye. “Sure, honey. Same room, right this way.”

Once inside with the door closed, Roz set her pack on the floor and padded to the mattress to recline on it.

“Sorry to lie down,” she told Nova, removing her glasses and wiping them on her sleeve. “I did a lot of walking today. It was tiring.”

“Lying down is actually closer to what I’m supposed to be doing with you right now,” Nova remarked, chuckling as she sat next to her.

She studied Roz as the girl tried to rub away the smudges on her glasses, noting how much brighter her gray eyes looked without the lenses in the way. A few dozen freckles dusted her cheeks, and her nose turned out to have a slender, prominent bridge, previously hidden by her large spectacle frames. She must have lost some weight because her face appeared a bit smaller than before. But then, in the Wasteland, no one really had the luxury of maintaining a hefty body mass.

“So, is it gonna be chit-chat again?” Nova questioned. “Or are you wanting the real deal this time?”

Roz replaced her glasses and reached into her pocket to produce another raggedy coin purse. “Here’s an extra fifty caps. Can I ask about your name now?”

Nova quirked an eyebrow, but accepted the payment after a second of deliberation. _Caps are caps._ “Well, I guess that works.” _Figures that I’d sell myself out._ She rotated the coin purse in her palm, her jaw hardening. “‘Nova’ is kind of my working name, but I’ve gotten to the point where I’ll answer to it outside the job. It’s what I go by regularly now.”

Roz stayed quiet, face attentive as she peered up at her and waited.

“My birth name is Novalee. My mother was the one who gave it to me. It’s the only thing I have left of her. Not that I’d remember anything of her at all.”

Roz’s forehead creased in consternation. “Did she pass away giving birth to you?”

Nova snorted, a bitter sound. “No. She left me next to my father’s grave and disappeared the day I was born.”

The statement hung between them, thickening the air. Although time had healed the worst of the wounds, the scars remained, bound to her history. 

“I’m sorry,” Roz said quietly.

“Yeah, not a story I like telling very much, but there it is, hon.”

“You survived, though.”

Nova gave her an absent nod. “An elderly neighbor found me and took me in. Couldn’t believe I lived through the radiation and heat. Said later that I must’ve been some kind of super-baby.”

Roz blinked at her. “So then you’re… Supernova.”

Nova paused, never having heard it put like that before. She gazed at the seriousness in Roz’s face, almost missing the deadpan delivery. An unexpected peal of laughter rose in her throat, marking this as the first instance where she could laugh at her past.

“That’s an awfully bad pun, kid.”

Roz’s lips curled upwards in the traces of a smile. “I try.”

x-x-x-x-x

After several more paid visits over the course of the following months, Nova began to wonder whether Roz was desperate for a friend—and she just happened to be the best that the bumbling Vaultie could do. Every visit played out the same. They spoke about subjects ranging from Nova’s interests to Nova’s hypothetical business. So really, she comprised the only topic. Roz volunteered little information about herself in return unless asked directly, which Nova didn’t think to do very often. The girl displayed a reserved, yet consistent interest in her, and if she were honest, she reveled in the compassionate attention.

Moriarty picked up on it right away and of course ordered Nova to seize the opportunity and extort Roz for more caps. She tried to put it off at first, but he started crunching the numbers and increased the required minimum of her daily wages. Scalper, she called him.

He struck her across the face in response.

The next time Roz came in, she stopped halfway across the floor when she caught sight of Nova. “What happened to your eye?”

Gob ducked his head and continued tinkering with the broken radio on the counter, having been chewed out by Moriarty when he had asked the same thing earlier.

Nova sent Roz a tight smile as the swollen bruise over her left eye throbbed, mindful of her employer observing the scene from the railing above them. “Just got into it a little with someone. It’ll heal, don’t worry. So, the usual today?”

Roz pressed her lips together and pushed her glasses up to rest on her head as she approached. Her line of vision zeroed in on the black and blue bruising, and although she rarely exhibited any outward displays of emotion, a hard glint reflected in the stormy depths of her eyes. Nova stared back at her, realizing she could make out the angles of Roz’s cheekbones for the first time. Roz examined her a moment longer before wordlessly motioning toward the room.

Nova pushed off from her post and led the way up the staircase, detecting a difference in the atmosphere as their clanging footsteps filled the bar. Once she reached the door and held it open, she turned back in time to catch the clash of gazes at the top of the stairs. Roz’s gait had slowed as she shot Moriarty a fierce glare, the most aggressive she had ever shown herself. He returned the hostility with his own glower, holding it for a few beats before moving it to Nova.

_“You’d best get those extra caps to make your quota this week. You come up short again, you’re done for, lass.”_

She swallowed and stood aside as Roz filed past her. Shutting the door behind them, Nova blew out a long breath and watched the girl drop her things onto the nearby tattered sofa. Roz slid her glasses back into place over her nose and sat on the bed, features already having reverted to her typical neutral expression.

Hoping to avoid a line of questioning about her injury, Nova gestured at Roz’s pack. “So I’ve noticed you don’t carry any weapons or wear any armor. How’ve you managed to not get maimed or killed yet?”

Roz brushed some strands of wavy brown hair from her face. “I have a switchblade in there. And a combat helmet.”

“Yeah, but those won’t be enough if you go up against raiders or the like.”

“Oh, I’ve already run into some. But it was okay. We talked it out, and there wasn’t much trouble.”

Nova hesitated, skeptical. “You… ‘talked it out’? With raiders?”

“I’m not a fighter, so I have to try to solve things peacefully,” Roz explained. “That, and giving up my caps helps. That’s why I can’t come here more often. I have an extra few hundred with me right now that I saved up, though.”

Nova bit her lip at the revelation and fidgeted with the hem of her top, thinking of Moriarty’s ominous vibes regarding her quota. A nagging voice in the back of her head told her not to succumb to his intimidation, but the swollen side of her face ached, reminding her that worse awaited if she failed him. It tore her in two, especially since she had come to like Roz. Still, when it came down to her or another, she had learned from birth to always put herself first.

No one else would.

“You know, I was thinking that today we could talk about you, hon,” Nova declared, locking her morals and ethics away.

“Me?” the girl echoed.

“That’s right. We have something like a ‘special’ going on this afternoon. The conversation will be on you. If you want to turn it on me, each instance will cost you another fifty caps. All right?”

Roz frowned, but folded her legs under her to settle in. “Okay.”

It was almost too easy.

Nova joined her on the mattress and tried to ignore the way Roz’s trust seemed to emanate from her in waves. “First off, what do you do when you’re not in Megaton?” she asked, finding herself genuinely curious.

“Scavenge, work odd jobs, bathe in irradiated water, hide from enemies that can’t be reasoned with…” Roz shifted in apparent discomfort under the spotlight. “Not much, really.”

“Where do you stay?”

“Here and there. Abandoned buildings or places outside where I can camp. I’m trying to start a budget to buy that vacant house across town, though.”

The knowledge took Nova by surprise, and she struggled to preserve her cool composure. “That’s good. It’s safer sleeping inside the town walls.”

“Yeah. Fending off mole rat attacks or running from radscorpions isn’t fun,” Roz remarked. “How did you handle yourself when you used to travel the Wasteland?”

“Oh, I’m gonna need fifty caps to answer that. Sorry,” Nova told her, stamping down on the burgeoning guilt in her midsection.

Without hesitating, Roz produced the currency from her pocket and handed them over.

“Thanks. I was with a traveling group of junkies. We were young and always looking for a good time, but we took care of each other.” Nova’s lashes lowered as she placed the caps on the nightstand next to the bed. “Well, until they ditched me when I got myself in trouble here. Fine by me. I don't miss that life, anyway.”

Roz scrutinized her. “Is this life any better?”

Nova glanced at the girl and held out her hand.

The clinking noise of exchanged caps filled the room for the next half hour.

x-x-x-x-x

Nova hid the extra caps from Moriarty.

She still had a few days to make up her wages for the weekly quota. The money sat in her personal footlocker, a silent box of her guilty conscience. If it had been anyone else, she would have taken advantage of them in a heartbeat, no regrets. But with Roz, the meek pacifist she had developed a certain fondness for, she detested having to swindle her, and the remorse ate her up inside.

On the last day before her quota deadline, Nova stood in her usual corner of the saloon, trying to decide whether or not to turn in the caps. The patrons numbered few today, and even Gob found himself with a bit of free time on his hands. She felt his staring in her peripheral vision, knowing that if she asked him, he would transfer his own wages to her and shoulder the consequences. The thought only exacerbated her inner turmoil, and she pushed it from her mind.

Not a minute later, Roz walked in. Nova flashed her a welcoming smile even as her heart sank. While she always enjoyed spending time with the sweet and timid Vaultie, she knew that if she accepted her visit now, she would have no opportunity to squeeze caps out of another customer. The dilemma rocked through her as Roz strode up, but when she got a closer look at the girl, all other concerns ceased.

Three half-healed slashes covered Roz’s face from her right cheek to her chin, running through her freckles and scarring her lips. The huge—and cracked—lenses of her glasses distorted the wounds to make them appear worse. She maintained a stoic set to her features, but her jumpsuit—now filled with holes and tears—hung a bit loosely over her frame to indicate even more lost weight.

Nova blanched as she came to a halt in front of her. “Oh my God, kid. Are you all right? What happened?”

“I met a deathclaw for the first time,” Roz replied, brown hair stringy and clumped with dried blood. “It wasn’t a good experience.”

“Well, no shit.” Nova’s eyes flickered to the entrance as she estimated how much longer Moriarty would be out on the town. “Hey, let’s head up to my room this time around. We should get those slashes taken care of.”

“I already got first aid done on them, though.”

“Using what? Toilet water? Come on.”

Once they entered Nova’s quarters, she closed the door and went straight for her medical kit as Roz took a seat in the rickety lounge chair. Nova brought over a few stimpaks and some clean gauze, kneeling down in front of the girl to inspect the injuries. Roz removed her glasses to allow her better access, and once again, Nova found the shine of her gray eyes striking.

“Do you really need glasses that large?” she asked, dipping the gauze into a nearby bottle of vodka and dabbing it on the wounds.

Roz flinched at the sting, but otherwise stayed still. “I asked for big ones on purpose because I did a lot of reading in the Vault.”

“Yeah? What about?”

“Space. The cosmos. Terrestrial worlds.” She paused. “Aliens.”

Despite herself, Nova grinned. “Aliens, huh? You believe in that stuff?”

Roz pursed her lips, a small mannerism that made her look cute. “A little.”

Nova momentarily put her troubles aside as authentic curiosity about Roz’s background took over. “Do you miss the Vault?”

“Is this another ‘special’ where we can only talk about me? I don’t have more than 120 caps this time for extra charges…”

Nova shook her head, something wrenching in her chest. “No, hon. You don’t have to pay me anything this time.”

“Oh. But—”

“What was it like growing up in a Vault?”

Roz blinked as she pondered it. “Cramped.”

“That’s it?”

Roz nodded and glanced at the single window, the sunlight streaming in through the torn, makeshift curtains. “I couldn’t see the sky.”

Nova set down the gauze and watched her, taking in the soft, almost wistful, quality in her gaze. She noticed then the graceful slope of Roz’s jaw, more prominent now that the remainder of her baby fat had disappeared. The subtle alteration revealed a defined side profile that showed off her delicate facial bone structure. Nova tilted her head, seeing Roz in a slightly different light.

“Say, you’ve asked about my name, but haven’t said anything about yours. Is ‘Roz’ short for something?” she inquired, forcing herself to stop staring by injecting a stimpak into the girl’s arm.

“Yes.” Roz fiddled with her glasses in her lap. “My first name is actually Rosette-Nebula.”

Nova smiled at that and set the empty syringe to the side. “Different, but it has a nice ring to it.”

“My parents weren’t cosmologists, but my mom loved outer space. I was named after a red cluster of stars out in the Monoceros region of the galaxy. I’ve heard that sometimes, when the skies are clear, you can use a telescope to see the Rosette Nebula at night.” Roz peered at the window again, her brow furrowing. “Someday, I’m hoping to find a telescope powerful enough to let me get a good view of it.”

Nova sat back on her haunches, witnessing the optimism there, the simplistic perspective through which Roz saw the world. It raised Nova’s spirits in a way. Knowing that at least one person remained untarnished by the Wasteland’s vices and horrors gave her a sense of hope. For what, she was uncertain. But she wouldn’t be the one to take it away.

And so, she made a choice.

Rising to her feet, Nova went to her footlocker and opened it, digging out the large bag of caps that had gnawed at her for days. She returned to Roz and pushed it into her arms, knowing hell loomed ahead, but the inferno could wait.

“Buy yourself a new pair of glasses, hon. You, more than anyone, deserve to see the stars.”


	2. Chapter 2

** Nebula **

Moriarty hurled her into the shoddy wall, and she coughed as dust and grime flew into her lungs when she gasped from the impact. The battered state of her body left little room for further physical abuse, but the night had only begun, and Moriarty’s temper had snapped.

“Tsk, tsk, Nova. What did I say about your quota, love?” he rumbled, drawing his 10mm pistol and aiming it at Gob when the ghoul tried to intervene. “Stay out of this, zombie. You’ve got three seconds before I turn you into a right proper corpse.”

Gob balked and stepped back toward the bar counter, but the alarm never left his face. Every customer had fled the instant Moriarty flew into a rage, and at this time of night, even Lucas Simms wouldn’t be available to diffuse the situation. Nova wiped the blood from her eyes and held her palm to the jagged cut on her forehead, standing by her decision to return Roz’s caps the previous day.

“All those sessions spent with the tubby lass, and you couldn’t weasel one extra cap from her?” Moriarty demanded as he swung the pistol toward Nova.

She cradled her left arm against her, certain that at least three bones had fractured. “She’s never had much money, Colin. What did you want me to do? Pick her up and shake her until caps came out?”

“Assuming you could lift her, yes, that’s precisely what you should’ve done,” Moriarty barked, closing in on her.

Nova pressed her lips together and fought the urge to spit in his face. Had she followed through with the plan to appease him, she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself. She may carry a history of things she wished she could do over, but meeting her Vaultie and growing to care for her had never joined that list of regrets. Roz deserved better than what this seedy bar in this second-rate town had to offer.

Roz deserved better than her.

Gob inched forward again, looking more terrified for her than for himself. “Hey, uh, Colin—Mr. Moriarty, sir… if I made up the difference in her quota by adding my wages—”

“Shut _up_ , Gob!” Moriarty rotated and pistol-whipped him, sending both the handgun and one of Gob’s teeth flying across the floor. “Shit. Just mind your own business, you stupid fuck.” Turning back to Nova, he pulled out the combat knife he kept at his belt and pressed it to her throat.

“Let’s think this through, Colin,” Nova stammered, wondering if she really had sent him over the edge. “I’m still making you the same income as before. If you get rid of me now, you’ll lose that source.”

He sneered at her, complexion red against the salt and pepper tones of his facial hair. “That won’t be a problem, lass. I’ll just recruit another dumb whore to take over your debt and position. Your fat girlfriend seems like the type stupid enough to do it, too. I’ll have to starve her for a while to shrink her to the right size, but where there’s a will, there’s a way. And I have many ways.”

Nova’s heart pounded against her sternum as she witnessed the madness in his eyes. “You’ve really lost it, old man.”

“And you’re dead, slut.”

She braced herself when the sharp steel cut through the first layer of skin at her neck, but then a shot rang around the saloon, slicing through the tense environment. The combat knife stopped, withdrew. It clattered to the floor as Moriarty’s stunned expression seared into her. She gawked back at him, paralyzed, as he crumpled in front of her, a bullet lodged in the back of his head. Her shocked gaze traveled to Gob, who was directing his own astonished look to the side. When she followed his line of sight, she jolted, something clenching inside.

Roz stood there next to the bar counter, frozen in terror, the 10mm pistol in her hands. She lowered it slowly as her wide gray eyes—lacking her glasses—fixed on the man bleeding out on the floor. How she had even taken an accurate shot without corrective lenses, Nova didn’t know. But there, beneath Roz’s pacifistic nature, a clear talent for marksmanship reared its head.

“I… killed someone,” she whispered in a horrified voice, dropping the pistol. “I killed…”

“You saved me,” Nova corrected, trying to take a step toward her, but stumbling when she put weight on her twisted ankle. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Roz.”

“I killed him. He’s dead. I killed him,” the girl cried, fisting her hands in her hair as her face crumpled. “Oh my God. What have I done?”

Nova bore the pain and dragged herself forward. “No, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. He was a monster. He was going to kill me. You stopped him.”

“There were other ways. I could have done it another way,” Roz wailed, backing up, tears pouring forth. “When I came in and saw what was happening—I hated him, but didn’t mean to do this. But he was hurting you, and my instincts just… I saw the gun, and…” She shook her head, sobbing. “What am I becoming?”

Her distress tore at Nova, who felt the impact of her shock. Despair and anguish collided in the air, circled around them, charged the atmosphere. Roz remained locked in place, a picture of a world come crashing down. The vision of neutrality and temperance had shattered, leaving behind only pieces of another innocent claimed by the harsh reality of the Wastes.

Nova gritted her teeth against her physical pain and motioned to Gob for support. He hurried to her at once and helped prop her up. Steadying herself against him, she reached toward Roz at the other side of the floor.

“Honey, come over here so we can discuss it. You saved my life,” Nova declared, almost pleading for her to understand. “You’re a hero.”

But Roz stopped, lowered her arms, looked at her with eyes that had gone dark. “In this kind of world, where even people like me turn to death as an answer, there are no heroes.”

Before Nova could say anything else, she turned on her heel and fled.

x-x-x-x-x

Several months passed, and Roz never returned once.

Nova thought about her every day, but even though Gob had taken over the saloon and freed her from her debt and profession, she chose not to pursue the girl. Even if she could readjust to life outside, she had a feeling that something had forever changed within Roz. And although such an alteration seemed almost inevitable for any pure soul who resided in the Capital Wasteland, she didn’t think she could handle seeing her sweet Vaultie so destroyed by her own perceived failings.

Convincing herself that her presence would only bring further misfortune to Roz, she let her be.

The days continued at a steady, uneventful pace. Nova settled into her new position as hotel manager, only too happy to work with an equal business partner and leave her long stint in prostitution behind. Several of her former clients protested the transition, but she shrugged off their gripes. Her body, her decision. For the first time in years, she called the shots on her own life.

The Megaton community as a whole remained largely indifferent to Moriarty’s demise. Many residents even congratulated Gob on his inheritance by default, much preferring his mellow demeanor when visiting the saloon. The ghoul thrived under the positive feedback, and Nova took note of the subtle shifts in his personality. He grew more assertive, confident, and steadfast in his interactions with people, soon becoming a self-reliant individual. She enjoyed witnessing his development from meek peon to competent business owner. And while she made it clear early on that their relationship was to remain platonic, they spent most of their time with each other, both holding onto the bond that had kept them afloat during their years under Moriarty’s thumb.

Without much in the way of distraction, however, Nova often found herself glancing at the front door, half-expecting a blue and yellow jumpsuit to appear. Whenever she wiped down the glasses at the bar counter, large spectacles came to mind. And during times when she caught a glimpse of the night sky through the cracks in the walls, the distant stars reminded her that the Rosette Nebula existed somewhere out there. Watching, waiting. Set to the tune of a crimson symphony. She recalled how much Roz had wanted to see her namesake.

Nova wished they could have seen it together.

At the beginning of the following year, things around the Capital began to change. Raider activity had all but ceased in the area. Independent caravans now carried more caps and goods to trade. One night, the static in the bar’s malfunctioning radio desisted, and the Galaxy News Radio station came on to announce its restored frequency. The clamor of the patrons continued as Gob adjusted the volume settings. Nova paid it little attention until the host, Three Dog, mentioned the “kid from Vault 101.”

She paused in the middle of taking inventory, ears perking up as he spoke of an individual known as the “Lone Wanderer.” A former Vault dweller, quick on her feet, able to get things done before anyone could blink. Silent and lethal, an agent of the shadows, operating only under the darkest hour of night. No name came with the description, but Nova didn’t need one. She turned back to her tasks, losing interest in Three Dog’s report.

_Nope. Not her. That’s a completely different person._

News of outside events slowly trickled into Megaton in the following weeks. Conflicts between the Brotherhood of Steel and the Enclave escalated into a full-scale war. The effects had not yet reached the larger settlements around the Capital, but Nova saw fewer and fewer travelers passing through town. While not enough to incite widespread concern, she and Gob noted a slight decrease in their revenue. It didn’t help that some of their customers, namely the shady Mr. Burke, had disappeared. They spent many evening hours poring over their finances, monitoring the economy and promising one another that if times grew too difficult, they would stick it out together.

Through all of this, Nova couldn’t help wondering how Roz fared outside. Knowing the gentle Vault girl like she did, she imagined Roz attempting to speak her way out of the new dangers spreading around the Wastes. At best, the efforts would cost her all the caps to her name. At worst…

Nova cut off that line of thought, refusing to acknowledge the very real possibility that something awful may have befallen her Vaultie.

Then, one typical day at work, someone new walked into the saloon for the first time in weeks.

Nova looked up from her restocking task to greet the newcomer, only to falter when she laid eyes on the tallest and most intimidating ghoul she had ever seen standing in front of the doorway. He scanned the area, necrotic features set in a fixed scowl as all attention gravitated toward him. When his gaze locked with Nova’s, he marched forward, leather armor brushing against the combat shotgun strapped to his back.

“Are you Nova?” he inquired in his raspy voice as soon as he came to a stop in front of her.

She stared up at him, craning her neck just to maintain eye contact. “Yeah, who’s asking?”

Instead of responding to the question, he reached into the pocket of his pants and handed her a sealed letter. “I am to deliver this to you. Expect shipments in a few days.” And then, without bothering to elaborate, he turned on his heel and made to stalk back out. Once he passed by Gob, however, he paused and glanced at the other ghoul. “Carol has heard the news that you now own this place. She wishes you well.”

They all watched him disappear through the door again, the encounter so swift and abrupt that Nova had to ask herself whether it really happened. One of the strangest visitors they’d had, even for a place like this. A beat of stunned silence went by before the patrons turned back to their drinks and resumed their chatter. While Gob blinked in bewilderment from the bar counter, Nova excused herself to the stock room to read the letter.

She took a seat at the desk and held the dusty paper under the lamp, squinting at the messy handwriting and working to decipher it. She had never seen this penmanship before, but something about the scrawls and wording struck her as familiar. Once she finished the message, her mouth fell open. And when Gob strode in to ask her about it, she sent him an amazed look.

“Gobbie… I’ve got the answer to our problems right here,” she declared, holding out the letter. “Whoever that person was, he just gave us a lifeline.”

“Really?” Gob asked as he scanned the page. “What does this mean?”

“We’ll be getting another salary to boost our profits. I don’t know why, but they’re setting up a shop for me in that Burke guy’s old house,” Nova replied, a wave of curiosity accompanying her new optimism. “Courtesy of this mysterious ‘Lone Wanderer.’”

x-x-x-x-x

Over the next week, she asked few questions, but she never stopped wondering.

_Is there a connection here that I’m not seeing?_

Nova peered around her new storefront, taking in the merchandise organized on the installed shelving units and counters. She still reeled from her surprise at finding the place set up almost overnight. From what she had heard from the other residents, no one had seen the party responsible for it. And when a key appeared on the nightstand next to her bed earlier this morning, she needed only one guess to know which door it unlocked.

The renovated building bore no traces of its previous use as a home. Completely refurbished, the interior boasted a supply of products unique enough to pose no competitive threat to Moira Brown’s business across town. Nova wandered around the floor, studying the dozens of intact books lining the shelves, mannequins wearing armor sets she didn’t recognize, and crates of what looked like Vault-Tec bobbleheads. A large box of stimpaks, Rad-Away, and Rad-X sat next to the register counter. She marveled at the vast stock, baffled by this gift given by some generous benefactor. And while she appreciated it all, the unanswered inquiry still loomed in the background.

Why?

Why go through all this trouble? For her? What did the Lone Wanderer get out of it?

She folded her arms over her chest and stood in the center of the shop, pondering. As her vision roved over the far wall, she spotted a large wooden plank leaning against the corner. Beside it, a used paintbrush still dripping with white paint lay atop a paint can. Curious, she approached the plank and turned it around. Her heart skipped a beat when she read the words on what appeared to be the store's front sign.

_Supernova Wares._

Her lips parted as it hit her. Casting another glance around the space, she gasped when it all began to make sense. The collection of educational books. The equipment used for defense. A notable lack of weaponry. The Vault toys. The healing items.

_Roz?_

x-x-x-x-x

“Thanks again, Nova. You’ve got a great thing going here,” Jenny Stahl remarked in parting as she carried her purchased items to the door and used her shoulder to push it open.

“Don’t I know it, hon. See you later,” Nova called back from the front counter. After checking the time on the nearby terminal, she looked out at the rest of the browsing customers and announced, “Fifteen minutes to closing, folks. If you’ve found something you like, come on over to the register and I’ll ring you up.”

Twenty minutes later, she bid good bye to the last patron and went to flip the sign on the store’s front door from Open to Closed. Now alone in the quiet shop, she stretched and basked in the feeling of accomplishment for an honest day’s work. Relative peacefulness now comprised the majority of her life, for which she was forever thankful. Humming a little tune to herself, she went about the end of the day tasks, tidying up the shelves and counting the earnings. Shades of the evening twilight poured inside through the windows Gob had installed weeks ago. Nova arranged a line of bobbleheads directly under the natural light, her fingers lingering over the engraved Vault-Tec labels.

She pursed her lips as her Vaultie—and likely supplier—came to mind. All efforts she had put into gathering information on Roz netted few results. The ghoul who served as Nova’s shipment deliverer, Charon, refused to answer her questions about the Lone Wanderer or confirm whether he knew Roz. He often appeared in the early morning hours twice a week to drop off boxes of new merchandise, outright ignoring her whenever she tried to corner him for a chat. She found his tight-lipped nature frustrating, as she wished to find out whether Roz and the Lone Wanderer really were one and the same.

As Three Dog’s reports on the radio centered more and more on the Lone Wanderer’s activities, Nova found herself becoming invested in the details. The stories fascinated her, and she imagined Roz undertaking every venture Three Dog described, wondering how the girl could have managed such feats. She still hadn’t verified whether it was even Roz, but she liked to think her Vaultie had amounted to something great, rather than the alternative possibility, which she hated to consider.

Nova listened to tales of the Lone Wanderer’s speed and stamina, her undisputed moral compass, and her peculiarity as an elusive figure. While she had no doubt some of the accounts may have been sensationalized, she found the idea of a Wasteland savior somewhat romantic. And whether or not her suspicions on the Lone Wanderer’s identity rang true, she hoped to one day thank the enigmatic individual for her support and generosity.

At that moment, the front door swung open, and a figure partly hidden behind a tall stack of carried crates staggered in.

“Gobbie!” Nova exclaimed, hurrying to help with some of the load before he tipped over. “What’s all this?”

“You didn’t hear on the radio last night?” he asked as his face came into view once she took two of the crates from him. “The Lone Wanderer activated some kind of water purifier at the Jefferson Memorial. The Potomac River’s been cleansed of radiation, and a bunch of merchant caravans got to fill up before the Brotherhood set up posts to regulate the area.” He followed her to the back of the store, where they set the crates down on an empty desk. “One of the caravans just sold all these to every shop in town. I went ahead and bought your share since you’re always so busy during work hours.”

Nova glanced at him in surprise. “The Lone Wanderer? That’s incredible.” _Roz… that’s something you would do, isn't it?_

“Yeah. It’s just too bad the explosion at the purifier took her out,” Gob said, shaking his head. “She was doing a lot of good for people around the Capital.”

Everything stopped as Nova processed his words. She stared at him, paralyzed, hoping she had misheard. “Wait. No. What are you saying?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what this means for your shop, Nova.”

“Who cares about that?” she suddenly snapped, reaching out to grip his shoulder as she searched his glassy eyes. “The Lone Wanderer didn’t make it? Are you sure?”

Gob blinked at her, clearly taken aback by her aggressive reaction. “Well, last I heard, she was in a coma in the Citadel. No one knows if she’ll come out of it.”

Nova exhaled and lowered her head, releasing him. “She has to. She _has_ to.”

“Are you all right?” the ghoul inquired in concern. “Why the outburst?”

She peered back at him as a wrenching feeling formed beneath her breast. “I think I’ve fallen in love with someone I may or may not have met.”


	3. Chapter 3

** Interstellar **

In the following days, Nova kept an ear glued to the radio she had nailed down right next to the register, often shushing customers whenever Three Dog came on. While he repeatedly commended the Lone Wanderer for her deeds, he never shared any news about her status. Nova's simultaneous disappointment and dread rendered her distracted enough to make a number of mistakes in her daily work. Several residents asked about her well-being, but she brushed off their concerns and continued to hope for any word that would appease her worries.

The end of the week marked the store's next scheduled shipment, and Nova wondered whether Charon would make an appearance. She had already drafted a list of questions in case he did show up, and she even considered conspiring with Gob to set some kind of trap that would hold Charon in place until he talked. The ludicrous ideas filed one by one in and out of her head, driven by her unexpected feelings for a person she either didn't know or no longer knew.

The evening before the shipment date, she stepped outside and locked up the shop, intending to head to the saloon for dinner with Gob. The Megaton ambience mellowed out at this hour, and she heaved a sigh in the quiet night, taking a minute to stand at the railing overlooking the strung lights of the city. She watched the residents going about their business below, and not for the first time, she considered how different things would have been if she hadn't let Roz slip from her reach. Would the girl have fared better?

Would the Lone Wanderer have existed?

A stomping sound several meters to the right pulled her out of her thoughts, as she recognized the heavy footfalls coming up the ramp.

"Charon," she said, glimpsing the dour-faced ghoul as he made his way toward the vacant house near the city's entrance. "Charon!"

He gave no indication that he heard her, producing a key from his pocket as she sprinted toward him.

"Hey!" Nova hollered when he unlocked the front door and stepped inside. She dove forward when he tried to shut the door behind him, wedging her body in the doorway and ignoring the bruises forming from the impact. "Hold on. I want to talk to you."

"Get out."

"I need to ask you about the Lone Wanderer," Nova insisted, clamping onto the doorframe when he attempted to shove her aside. "It's important."

"Today isn't the shipment day, so I'm not obligated to speak to you."

"Come on, give me a break. Your boss just saved the entire Capital from total doom, and I want to know if she's okay."

"The Lone Wanderer has no comment."

"Are you trying to be funny?" Nova demanded. "Is she alive or not?"

Only a grunt served as his response as he worked to pry her fingers from the doorframe.

"Ah, you must be Master Charon. I am Wadsworth, your personal butler," a robotic voice greeted from farther inside the house. "I take it Madam will be arriving in the morning? Sheriff Simms has already briefed me on her condition. I assure you I will have the premises furnished and comfortable for her recuperation!"

Both Nova and Charon went still. The ghoul let out an exasperated breath as a Mister Handy floated around the interior behind him, its arms toting different cleaning equipment. Nova narrowed her eyes at Charon, and he ran a hand over his face in consternation before sending her a scowl.

"She woke from her coma this morning," he stated grudgingly. "She will be moving here to finish recovering."

Nova gaped at him, a great weight lifting from her chest. "Really? That's all I wanted to know. You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that."

"Don't look so thrilled. She won't want to be bothered," Charon declared, managing to push her back. "So don't come near this house again."

x-x-x-x-x

_Like hell,_ Nova thought in annoyance as she recalled Charon's warning from the previous night. She stood leaning against the exterior of her storefront, arms crossed, staring at the formerly empty house across the ramps. _If anyone has a legit reason to see her, it's me._

The Lone Wanderer's arrival in the early hours of dawn had all of Megaton buzzing. None of the residents managed more than a brief glimpse of her before her Brotherhood escorts ushered her inside the house, and Nova had missed the entire thing after having slept in. She now watched the contingent of Brotherhood soldiers exiting the city, deciding to pay the Lone Wanderer a proper visit after she had some time to rest.

_That's the house Roz wanted to buy. I really want you to be her, Wanderer._

As it turned out, Nova's business went through a steep increase starting that day. With news of the Lone Wanderer residing in Megaton, citizens from all around the Capital Wasteland flocked to the city in hopes of interacting with their new hero. Nova spent the next week observing the bustle from the windows of her shop, tapping an impatient finger on the counter as she tried to multitask running the store and keeping an eye on the happenings outside.

"God. Get in line," she muttered as a crowd gathered around the Lone Wanderer's house that day. "Not like her brick wall of a bodyguard is gonna let you near her, anyway."

Sure enough, all of the people who showed up to meet the Wasteland idol ended up walking away disappointed.

Nova frowned to herself as she contemplated whether to devise a way to lure Charon from the house long enough for her to sneak in and confront the Lone Wanderer. In the eight days since they had moved in, no one had entered or left their residence. She understood that living through an explosion and subsequent coma warranted a long period of recovery, but she had expected to at least catch a view of the Lone Wanderer, even from a distance, if only for a moment.

After another week, most of the visiting citizens gave up and dispersed, and things settled down in Megaton. She found out that Charon still followed through with the task of delivering her wares, although now he just dumped each shipment at the rear entrance of her store and slipped away before she could say two words to him. It took her another few days to learn that he regularly met with a caravan merchant to pick up the wares outside the city gates. Nova saw her chance, timing his exit and estimating how long she would have to attempt a visit before he returned. She picked a day and scheduled her shop hours accordingly, determined to once and for all see the Lone Wanderer in person.

She realized the absurdity of her own eagerness, but in truth, she found it disappointing that the Lone Wanderer hadn't even reached out to her despite funding her business. Again, she understood the need for privacy and respite, but on a somewhat reasonable level, she felt she deserved at least some form of acknowledgment or explanation. If taking the initiative to make contact meant she was overstepping her bounds, she could live with the consequences.

If she didn't at least try, and the opportunity escaped her, the regret would be the most unbearable aspect of all.

The morning Charon next emerged to meet the caravan, Nova stood hidden at the other side of the house. She had told no one of her intentions, even Gob, and so she kept herself out of sight to avoid curious bystanders. She admitted she certainly looked suspicious, flattened as she was against the outside of the building. Once she peeked around the corner and saw Charon march through the gates, she relaxed a tad and straightened her standard merc attire.

Moving fast, she approached the front entrance of the house and produced a bobby pin from her pocket. If anyone had told her a year ago that she would be going from town prostitute to compulsive trespasser in the not too distant future, she would never have believed it. Yet here she was, willfully committing a petty crime for the sake of satisfying her curiosity.

_Boy, have I reached new lows._

After three tries, the locking mechanism released. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself and opened the door, glancing behind her before slipping inside. Her pulse raced as she swept her gaze around the dim interior. A peculiar scent of sweetness and musk permeated the space, and she took in the multitudes of working terminals, which alternated with large bookshelves along the walls. The sounds of clattering dishware and splashing water flowed from the kitchen area across the living room. The Mister Handy robot hummed a tune to himself as he went about his cleaning duties, apparently not having picked up on her presence.

Nova heard another noise up the stairs, and she tiptoed to the staircase to the right, keeping her footsteps light as she ascended to the second floor. By this time, her stomach had wound itself into knots. Guilty of breaking and entering, she hoped to God she found what she needed before someone called in Lucas Simms to cart away her sorry hide.

The second floor landing contained some chemistry sets and first aid tables, as well as a Nuka-Cola machine situated near one corner. Although hardly at liberty to admire the sights, she paused to examine the furnishings, estimating their net worth to be higher than half the houses in Megaton combined. She'd already had an idea of the Lone Wanderer's monetary fortune, but seeing all this, she now knew her benefactor was rolling in the caps.

A muffled noise once again issued from the closed bedroom. Nova urged herself forward, heart pounding even harder in her chest as she approached the door. She hesitated upon grabbing the knob, shutting her eyes to count to ten. When she mustered enough courage, she pulled open the door to peer inside.

The sight froze her in place.

Down on the floor, a woman performed a long set of one-handed push-ups. The defined muscles of her shoulders and back strained against the tight material of her stained blue tank top. She wore thin shorts that confirmed the musculature included the rest of her body, her glutes and calves appearing in peak shape. Up higher, her biceps and forearms looked the most toned of all, sporting bulging veins that ran beneath the flesh. Long brown hair highlighted with gold cast a sheer curtain over her face. She grunted with each rep, and Nova couldn't take her eyes off the sheen of perspiration on her suntanned skin.

Ten seconds passed. Then half a minute. The push-ups continued, leaving Nova to falter as she tried to think of an acceptable way to make her presence known.

"I sensed you as soon as you came in," the woman suddenly said without breaking the cadence of her repetitions.

Nova jolted, but even more, the familiar voice sent her head reeling. "Oh. I'm sorry for breaking into your home, Wanderer. It's just that I wanted to…" She gave a start when the woman ceased her push-ups and jumped to her feet. "I …"

Her words trailed off completely when the Lone Wanderer brushed her hair back, revealing the features of the woman who had once been a wide-eyed Vault girl. Her matured facial structure looked slender and defined, cheeks still dusted with freckles. Three faded scars cut through the right side of her face, from cheekbone to chin and over her lips. Sharp gray eyes shone silver in the ambient lights, brighter than the day and free of spectacles.

Within the span of a year, a metamorphosis had occurred.

"Roz?" Nova breathed, taking in the almost unrecognizable person standing before her. "Oh my God. It really is you."

A surprised look came over the other's features, followed by recognition, and then something else undefinable. "Nova…" Her gaze shifted past the door, and at once her astonishment changed to alarm. "Oh no, wait—"

Something smashed into the back of Nova's head, and after half a second of white hot pain, everything went black.

x-x-x-x-x

"She's waking up. You didn't have to hit her so hard, Charon."

"Hmph."

"I say, I have no idea how she managed to sneak past my detection, Madam."

"It's fine, Wadsworth."

Nova groaned while opening her eyes, her vision out of focus as a throbbing sensation pulsed through her skull. The soft surface beneath her reclining body helped to ease the pounding, and she brought up a hand to press her palm to her head. Against the luminescence of the ceiling bulbs, she saw three silhouettes hovering above her.

"I guess I deserved that," she murmured, squinting up at the onlookers. "But sheesh, you should've known I wasn't gonna do anything to her, Charon."

"My orders were to dispose of intruders or harassers. You have a history as both," the ghoul grumped.

"That's really not what I meant when I said to keep the public at a distance, but we'll work on it," Roz sighed, and then made shooing motions at her companions. "You two can go for now. I want to talk to Nova."

"Very well. I will be outside," Charon stated, his speech oddly more formal as he and Wadsworth moved away and left the room.

The ensuing silence allowed Nova time to regain her senses. Once the pain dulled and her sight cleared, she pushed herself up on her elbows, discovering she had been laid out on Roz's bed. The other woman sat on the edge beside her, countenance set in the neutral expression Nova remembered.

"Charon used a wooden bat, so I don't think it did too much damage," Roz told her. "I'm sorry about that. He takes my instructions to the extremes."

Nova tried to stretch her mouth into a grin, but it stopped at a rueful wince. "Yeah. What a charmer." She stared at Roz for a long while, the mood growing somber as they regarded each other in the stillness. "So. The Lone Wanderer in the flesh. I still can't believe it's you, hon. I mean, yeah, I had a feeling. But the stories about you are pretty amazing."

Roz tilted her head. "I guess I've gained a reputation." She raised a finger to the bridge of her nose as if to push something up, but then seemed to remember herself and lowered her hand.

"You can see without those magnifying glasses now?" Nova asked, smiling despite herself.

"I… to be honest, I never actually needed them for my eyesight. I just liked wearing them because they made me feel more comfortable around people," Roz confessed. "But out in the Wastes, with my life taking the direction it did, they just became a liability. Charon got me to give them up."

"Charon must be fun at parties," Nova remarked dryly. "I never did suspect that about your glasses. But say, how'd you get tangled up with that guy, anyway?"

"He's kind of a hired gun, but… more intense. I bought his contract from its last holder in Underworld because I thought I could turn around and release him. But even though I told him he was free to go, he said I'm still his employer, and he won't stop following me around until I dismiss him."

"So why don't you?"

"Because he'll go back to Underworld and sit in the Ninth Circle forever unless I tell him to come with me again." Roz frowned, her eyebrows drawing together. "I figured he's better off helping me do some good in the world than collect dust in that bar."

Nova let out a short laugh as she reached back to feel the tender bump on the back of her head. "My cranium's gonna have to disagree on that."

"Sorry. I'll talk to him."

"Just kidding, honey. It's all right." The linen sheets rustled as Nova sat all the way up. A brief dizzy spell hit her, but once it passed, she surveyed the bedroom and took note of the various expensive-looking items strewn all over the place. "You must be loaded these days. Not many people could afford all this stuff."

Roz rubbed the back of her neck as she looked toward the electronic components on her desk. "Some of these things I earned for completing jobs, but I also did some investing with the merchant caravans. The caps you gave back to me that one day last year… remember? They got me started."

Nova gazed at her, a hint of gloom accompanying the memories of darker days. "Yeah. I remember. A lot's happened since then."

Roz nodded, peering down at her hands, which now bore calluses and hypertrophic marks. Although her appearance had vastly changed, her demeanor seemed to have stayed the same. A gentle smile spread over Nova's lips. She had driven herself half-insane over the past year, wondering what had become of her Vaultie, whether Roz had lived or met a different fate. Then, when she had begun to connect Roz and the Lone Wanderer, she wondered whether her Vaultie had transformed into someone else entirely. She couldn't begin to describe her relief that Roz had remained her timid, awkward self at the core.

But that new body…

"Hey. Tell me something. What is all this?" Nova inquired, gesturing to Roz's physique. "I heard you'd just come out of a coma, but look at you. Your arms especially. Those are some serious guns you're packing there."

Roz glanced down at herself. "Oh. Exercising became a habit when I worked with the Brotherhood. Charon says I should take it easy, but I feel restless if I don't move around each day."

"Well, you look incredible, hon," Nova declared. "A year ago, I never would've imagined this is what you'd become."

Roz's forehead creased as she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. "Is… is that a bad thing?"

Nova blinked and then reached out to close a grip around the other woman's wrist. "No, of course not. Why would you say that?"

"I had to change some things about myself to survive out there. When I came back, I thought maybe you wouldn't like the changes."

It dawned on Nova. _The reason she didn't try to contact me after moving here—she was worried about my reaction to her?_ "Are you kidding? I'm blown away. I hoped more than anything that I'd see you again, but with you ripped like this now… I don't really know what to do with myself."

Any other individual would have taken that as a hint of interest, but it flew right over Roz's head as she said, "Oh, you don't have to worry. My build is based more on endurance than on strength, so I won't accidentally knock you out or something if I lift an arm."

Nova had to stifle a peal of laughter. _My bumbling, oblivious Vaultie is still somewhere in there, all right._ "I'll keep that in mind," she stated out loud. As the atmosphere eased into one of comfort, her fingers stroked over Roz's forearm, tracing the solid muscles straining from under her skin. "You've come so far, Roz. All the things you've done for the Capital. How did you manage it all?"

The other woman stared at their physical contact, and it took her a few seconds to respond. "I learned a lot, practiced what was best for me. Talking it out only gets you so far, I found out. I worked to become sneaky and fast so I could get jobs done without having to hurt anyone. It didn't always work right. There were times I had no choice but to put down an enemy. I'm still not a fighter, but I have a body count under my belt." She lowered her head and placed her hand on top of Nova's to still it. "This was my life as the Lone Wanderer. I did what I could. But I don't see myself as a hero."

Nova gazed at her in sympathy, hearing the forlorn note in her jaded words. "Your sweet soul hasn't changed, though. That's what's important." She reached out and grasped Roz's chin, prompting her to make eye contact. "My shop, for instance. When you set that up for me, you saved me all over again. But I just want to ask… why?"

Roz gave her a bewildered look. "Why what?"

"Why did you go through all that trouble? Building it, funding it, supplying it. Why?"

"Because you told me once that if you had a choice, you would run a shop."

"So you just gave one to some dreaming hooker because she mentioned she was good at selling things?" Nova pressed, her fingers now digging into Roz's chin.

"It just felt like the right thing to do."

Nova shook her head, dissatisfied with the response. "That doesn't make sense. And neither did all those times you bought my company for half-hour conversations. What was with that, Roz? Why were you always so interested in learning about me? I've never understood it."

All the unresolved gripes and perplexities surged forth, traveling through her biting tone as she waited for the answer. A new type of energy coursed through her at that moment. Deep down, she knew she was hoping for a specific reply.

Roz slowly lifted her fingers to remove Nova's grip from her face. "Actually… I don't know," she told her, lowering their hands to the bed but keeping them connected. "When it came to you, I did a lot of things that weren't logical. I left the Vault to find my dad, but when I first saw you in Megaton, I just… lost track of my priorities."

Nova's heartrate picked up in an instant. "What are you saying?"

Roz shifted her line of sight to their joined hands. "I'm not sure. I've never known how to express myself. I just remember wanting to see you whenever I could. I wanted to hear your story. I wanted to know your smile. I wanted to make your day brighter. And when I was able, I wanted to give you something that would bring you happiness." She gave a half-shrug even as a rose flush crept up her cheeks. "Other than that, I can't explain it."

Nova sucked in a sharp breath, comprehending at once. A giddy feeling wove through her midsection as she searched the other woman's eyes. If she read this right, perhaps she could try…

"Hey, hon, let me test something real quick," Nova said quietly as she placed her palms on either side of Roz's jaw and leaned toward her.

Roz stiffened when their lips met, her entire body turning to stone. Nova kissed her with everything she had, communicating all her inner desires and longings that even she had been unaware of until now. The heat between them intensified to a tangible level, and she reveled in it, memorizing the soft sweetness of Roz's mouth against hers. The younger woman still sat there like a statue, but Nova had lost herself in her own world, one where different circumstances may have led to different outcomes, and perhaps they could have been together.

Finally, Nova ended the kiss and pulled away.

"Sorry. I've just wanted to do that for a while now, even before I knew for sure that the Lone Wanderer was you," she remarked with a soft chuckle. "I know you're probably not into women, but—"

"Do it again."

The request caught her off-guard, and she stuttered to a halt as Roz's stare bore into her, the neutral expression gone, replaced by something hot and passionate. The air changed again as Roz rotated her position and moved closer, her shoulder muscles flexing, drawing Nova's undivided attention. At that moment, a peculiar notion came to light. Roz was her precious, awkward Vaultie. But this woman leering at her now, fierce gray eyes aflame with hunger…

This was the Lone Wanderer.

"Really?" Nova asked, almost too dumbfounded to do or say anything else.

Roz bent forward, wrapping one arm around Nova's waist as she closed the distance between them. "Really."

x-x-x-x-x

Nova grinned at the object she had worked for months to procure, using the illumination from the lantern to study its construction. Most of the exterior looked worn and battered from age alone, but the glass and prisms inside had remained intact. Charon must have despised her by now for bothering him until he agreed to help her find it, but considering that she was his boss’s girlfriend, he could do nothing but glower at her every chance he got.

The catwalk of the guard post was peaceful at this time of night. She had selected it specifically for its height and location, and she appreciated Stockholm taking the evening off at her bidding. This had been a long time coming, and now that it had arrived, she couldn't wait to begin.

A scuffling sound to the left set the entire event into motion.

"I would really like to know why we're meeting up here," Roz's voice declared through the darkness as she climbed the ladder to the guard post. "I, um… I've never been great with heights."

"Come over here and you'll see," Nova responded, aware of how gleeful she sounded.

As soon as Roz stepped onto the catwalk, she stopped in her tracks and gasped. "Wait. Is that…?"

"Get over here," Nova laughed, raising the lantern so she could see Roz's expression.

The younger woman hurried over to her spot in the center of the post, and she reached out with trembling hands to touch the present Nova had gotten her for Christmas.

"A telescope?" Roz asked in a tone of utter disbelief. "It's huge."

Nova nudged her closer to it. "Yeah, it was no picnic getting it up here. I'm pretty sure Charon hates my guts at this point, but it was worth it to see your face just now, honey."

"Thank you," Roz breathed, eyes wide as she turned to her. "I really have no words…"

Nova placed the lantern on the ground and then leaned over to kiss her. "No need. Let's get started on finding your nebula, hm?"

They spent nearly a half hour orienting the telescope in the right direction, and once Roz pointed out the correct cluster, they honed in on it. Nova patiently stood by as Roz gazed at her namesake for the first time, loving the excitement in her frame and genuine emotion in her voice.

"I can't believe I'm really looking at it," Roz said, hands clutching the sides of the telescope as she looked through it. "The Rosette Nebula. It's as beautiful as I imagined."

Nova reached out to run her fingers through the other woman's long hair. "I'm glad for you, sweetheart."

"Here, take a look, babe."

Nova's chest filled with warmth at the term of endearment, and she moved closer once Roz stood aside, bending down to line her eye with the viewing lens.

The nebula's brilliance took her aback, and her heart skipped a beat as she gaped at the red cluster of stars. Mesmerizing, staggering. She now understood why Roz had so wanted to see this.

"I can't even describe how amazing this is," Nova remarked, completely enraptured by the sight. "This is so you, Roz. You're like the nebula incarnate."

"You're somewhere up there, too, Supernova."

Nova smiled at that. "I'm sure I am. Cosmos or Earth, we're drawn to each other."

Roz stayed quiet for a while, and Nova managed to pry herself from the telescope to peer at her in the lantern's light.

"I wanted to let you know something," Roz began, phasing into her fidgeting mannerism. "Before I finished carrying out Project Purity, Charon and I stumbled upon some kind of crashed aircraft in the northern Capital."

Nova's brow furrowed as she heard the hesitation in the other's voice.

"I'm… certain it was extraterrestrial," Roz continued. "And I've been meaning to go back to inspect it properly. I don't know how long I'd be gone."

Nova stepped toward her and reached out to grip her arm. "You're leaving?"

"Not permanently. I'll be back once I finish exploring the site. And don't worry about the store. Charon will still be here to handle shipments."

"So you're even going by yourself? Roz, I know you've always been into space and all, but if this really is some kind of alien spaceship, are you sure you should be messing with it? What if something happens to you? What if you can't come back?" Nova demanded, growing frantic.

Roz peered up at her and brushed the backs of her knuckles over her cheek. "Then look for me in the stars."

Nova grabbed her hand, held on, refused to let go. She had hoped the telescope would be enough to curb Roz's wanderlust tendencies, but once a wanderer, never a settler. She watched her girlfriend, recognized the determination and optimism in her face. Rosette-Nebula. Boots on the ground, but head in the stars. And then there was her. Supernova. Staying in one place for fear of going out with a bang. She looked around at Megaton, her home for so many years. Then she glanced at Roz, her home for future years to come.

There really was only one solution to this problem.

"No. Take me with you this time."

Roz blinked, stilled. "But… you've said a lot of times that you don't want to leave—"

"If you're gonna end up in the stars, I'm gonna be right there with you," Nova asserted, pointing at the millions of twinkling lights in the midnight sky. "I let you get away once. Like hell I'll let you walk from me again."

A slow smile spread over Roz's lips. She took Nova's hand and placed a kiss on its back. "Then it's you and me, Supernova. I'm glad you're mine to keep."


End file.
